Envy
by MissMuffin42
Summary: Danny and Stacie return from America to find that Mickey has recruited Emma and Sean in their places. The gang attempt to work as a seven in order to pull off a con. Will new found rivalries get in the way, and do too many cooks spoil the broth?
1. Chapter 1

Emma didn't want Mickey to come back from the airport.

Well no. That wasn't exactly true. She did want Mickey to come back from the airport; she wanted him to come back from the airport quite a lot.

But she didn't want the people from the photograph to come with him.

That was how she thought of them. "The people from the photograph". The beautiful woman in the black dress and the grinning man, dressed in a posh suit that stood in a Las Vegas casino and smiled along with Mickey, Ash and Albert, tucked away neatly in Mickey's wallet.

It had started with a postcard.

A sleek, shiny postcard promising a phone call. And then, a few days later, the hour long phone call, consisting of the one phone they had in the penthouse being passed between Albert, Mickey and Ash. She could remember that Sean was out, with the current mark. Emma sat alone, staring at the TV screen although it may as well have been turned off. She tried distracting herself. She made a drink. She went and stood on the balcony. She even went to bed for a while. But as much as she tried, within five minutes she'd find herself back on the sofa again, drinking in every detail of the conversation that she could hear.

And then Mickey hung up. And announced to everyone that Danny and Stacie would be coming back to London.

And that was when it hit her. That was when she realised that these fictional characters that she'd envied at time, that had occupied so much of her friends' attention actually had names. And they were real. And now they were going to become a part of her life.

Emma found, in the weeks that we prepared for they're arrival that she actually started looking forward to them coming. It'd be nice to have another woman round, wouldn't it?

And as much as she thought about it, Emma really did start looking forward to meeting "the people from the photograph", that now in her mind they'd actually turned into "Stacie and Danny". Being on the streets with her brother since she was fourteen, and then having lived with Mickey and the others for the last six months she'd never really had any friends that were female or, admittedly, long term friends outside of her and Sean's life alone, when they were constantly on the move.

She imagined shopping trips and clothes swapping and conversations they'd have and smiled to herself, then laughed a little at her little-girlish state of imagination.

But as Emma sat at their usual table in Eddie's Bar now, she felt the light formation of her thoughts drop, and instead she felt worried, and nervous.

She wasn't sure if she'd ever wanted anyone to like her this much before.

Sean sat beside her in silence, and unusually she couldn't tell what he was thinking about. Ash and Albert talked with Eddie at the bar, and the four drinks in front of them, one of which was Emma's, seemed to have been forgotten about.

She thought back to last night, which had felt a little like it would be the last night before her wedding. Emma already knew how much she wanted to impress the other grifters when they arrived tomorrow, and it was almost like her last free moment to relax.

Emma wasn't sure if she hoped or thought there would be some sort of celebration, but instead Sean, Mickey and Ash shifted a bookshelf from one of the two bedrooms they'd had to clear in the apartment, which they'd had to move furniture around in throughout the last week in order to create space. It had always marvelled Emma by its size, but it did a little more when she realised it would still comfortably fit the seven of them.

The seven of them. That sounded strange.

Emma still couldn't work out how Sean felt about this. He didn't seem to be worrying much, like she was, and showed the appropriate amount of excitement in front of the others. She wasn't sure if his relatively carefree attitude went past his face or not.

Recently, she'd found that Sean and her weren't as close as usual, that she couldn't understand him as much. Maybe it was the fact that they'd spent so long alone together, and within the last six months there were suddenly other people in their lives that they'd lost touch a little. Maybe it was just them that had changed.

Emma, usually, would have counted herself as a patient person. Not in the sense that she could sit calmly through any amount of build up, but usually she could grin and bear it, and not let anything affect her so much.

Today, impatience nibbled harder than usual at her brain. She wasn't sure if she wanted Danny and Stacie to arrive or not, but she didn't want forever to be this time that already seemed like days, sitting in Eddie's Bar and waiting.

Waiting.

And then she heard a car draw up outside.

She watched Ash say something, get up and leave. Albert and Sean, who'd seemed to have gotten bored of her silence, watched Ash go. For next two minutes, butterflies stung the inside of her stomach.

Then the doors swung open, and muffled conversation and laughter were released into Eddie's Bar. Emma watched the people in the photograph, rush to the bar and hug Albert and also Eddie. Sean shook their hands and smiled.

Emma observed the strangers separately, watching them as they hugged and chatted with the others. The woman, Stacie, was as beautiful as she had been in the photograph. Emma found there was a moment when Stacie's eye caught Mickey and they smiled at each other, and that a jealous string would tug softly at her heart.

Danny was how Emma had imagined him, only more so. He spoke in a loud, cheerful cockney accent and laughed a lot, seeming to talk endlessly to everyone. From the other side she could make out words he was saying, hear which drink he demanded from Eddie.

She wanted to go over there and meet them. But she didn't; she felt suddenly shy. And in her moment of decision making, Sean went and spoilt it all.

"I'll go and find Emma."

She sunk a little further into her seat, realising how strange it would seem that she'd been hiding all this time. She got up from her seat and went over to where the others were, crossing paths with her brother.

"Where've you been he asked?" Sean asked.

Emma looked around for inspiration, wishing she'd had time to make up an excuse.

"I was… at the apartment."

Sean regarded her for a second, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I had to get something… I've been about fifteen minutes; didn't you notice I was gone?"

He continued to stare at her, looking a little disbelieving but saying nothing.

"I ran," she said, quickly, remembering fifteen minutes was a little unlikely.

Emma stalked past him, before her story would grow anymore; instead hoping it would join a stack of forgotten conversations.

"There you are," Mickey said, smiling and turning to face her. "This is Danny Blue and Stacie Monroe. Emma Kennedy."

He gestured as he spoke, and Emma shook hands with each of them, going in seconds from warm to cooler, smoother skin.

She sat down on a bar stool and listened to their conversation, laughing at appropriate times as Stacie, Danny and Mickey shared stories. She wasn't so much joining in the conversation as taking in every part of them, taking pictures for her mind and listening to their voices.

Watching them.

Emma found she didn't exactly know what to say. She wanted to contribute something to the conversation, or at least try to appear interesting but she'd left it too long now and the others were talking about a con they'd worked together years back.

Without her.

But after a while, she listened to what they were saying and she laughed, really laughed. Because what they were saying was interesting, and as uninvolved as she was Emma felt like she was really listening to the words and understanding, not just observing.

After a while, she felt like she liked Danny and Stacie. And she wanted to get to know them better.

They left Eddie's Bar at around half eight, and headed back to the apartment, each taking a suitcase, or in Albert's case, a briefcase of which the contents currently remained an excited mystery.

Mickey waited for Emma at the door of the penthouse.

"Well done," he said, sarcastically, smiling as she passed him the suitcase.

"Well, you know, it's a hard job but someone has to do it."

A smile danced between them and they laughed. Emma turned around to take the suitcase to a previously waiting Stacie, only in time to see her disappear into her room.

They opted for ordering take out for dinner; it was too late to go to a restaurant as they did fifty percent of the time and nobody wanted to cook. It came quickly and Ash sorted out 'paying'.

The seven of them sat and ate their curry together like old friends. The TV was turned on and Danny and Sean had each flicked through the channels for a while but after moments it had melted into that general hum of background noise. They talked about the past, mainly about what Danny and Stacie had done in America and cons they'd worked years ago with Ash, Albert and Mickey but some more recent stories, which Emma found she could involve herself in more and contribute the occasional sentence.

One by one, everyone retired to their rooms. Emma, last up, disposed of the leftover curry and took her now half full glass of wine on to the balcony, mentally evaluating her day.

She immediately felt Sean drift up behind her, and turned around as she felt his presence. They smiled at each other, and Emma felt a strange feeling of discomfort that she hadn't experienced before around her brother.

"The new people seem nice," Sean said.

"Yeah, they do," Emma agreed. She thought. "Except if you think about it we're the "new people", really, aren't we?"

Sean looked at her and the moment paused.

"Yeah, but it doesn't feel like that."

Emma stayed silent in response, not feeling able to share with her brother that yes, it did feel like that. It felt just like that.

The two of them shared a silence, that seemed to last far too long. Emma looked at her empty glass and considered going inside, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep yet and it was comfortably cold outside.

The world seemed to wait for something, anything, to happen.

"Ok, night," Sean said, finishing his drink and turning inside to go back inside.

Emma whispered a reply, but he was already gone.

She turned back to her drink, and the street underneath her, again feeling strangely apart from her brother. It wasn't as if they _weren't _getting on, it was just that she seemed to have lost the feeling of security that she used to have, where could tell Sean what she was thinking and he'd understand. Or he would be thinking it too.

Emma knew it would be a while before she could get to sleep, but she went inside anyway. The idea of sleep was comforting, to know that she could fast forward to tomorrow where something other than the following scary hours of silence where thoughts screamed out was still there, somehow.

* * *

**Hi!**

**Ok, so I love Hustle and it's my favourite show. I'd only seen Series 4 and 5 up until a few months ago, so my first Hustle fanfic, Breathe For Me isn't very accurate to the show and characterisation and such. I'm still writing that, but it's on hold for a while and as people are starting to write stuff involving the new crew I thought I'd do so to, but without rejecting Stacie and Danny. So I'll update soon. Thanks for reading the first chapter and I hope you enjoy this. Leave a review please. xD**

**Miss Muffin x**


	2. Chapter 2

"Richard Mayfair."

An image of a man, around the age of fifty, appeared on the wall, all in greyscale colours. He seemed to glare at a spot to the side of the camera. "He started his chain of restaurants five years after he divorced his wife back in 1999," Mickey added. "The divorce was messy, ended up in court but Richard came out with most of the money, the house and cars and his wife Angela got custody of their two children. She was naïve, thought she did well and ended up with nothing."

The group shared glances between each other, though nobody commented. Albert stood up as the next picture appeared on the slideshow. It was the same man, though he looked younger this time. His hair was a shade of dark brown. He stood and smiled in a suit that didn't look particularly expensive and smiled at the woman on his arm, a blonde who wore a cheap looking wedding dress. They grinned tackily outside a church. Nothing about the picture suggested these people were particularly rich. They didn't look like marks. They didn't look like people with money, or greed.

But the next picture was different. The same woman was shown, though she seemed to have aged a lot. Her hair was greying. She wore no make up and a plain, very black and white suit. She was walking into a building, a courthouse, and looked tired and stressed. Several other cameras flashed in the background, press.

A newspaper clipping. The man, her husband walking out of the same building, dressed in an expensive suit. Proud. Sneering. Rich. Greedy.

Deserving.

"I met Richard Mayfair last Tuesday at my gentleman's club. I didn't have to spend a lot of time looking for an in. He's inherited some money recently, I didn't ask who from, and he's looking to buy a restaurant." Everyone looked up at this. "I told him I knew someone in the business who was selling his own."

"Ok, so we sell him a restaurant," Mickey said, simply.

"We haven't got a restaurant," Sean replied, quickly. The moment paused.

"Correct… Ash?" Mickey raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Ash slid open his phone. "I'm on it."

"Ok." Mickey replied. "Emma, Sean, I need you working at Richard Mayfair's restaurants. Danny, you're trying to buy my restaurant but I, the owner of the restaurant, am reluctant to sell it to you because…"

There was a pause.

"He's going to turn it into a bar. The restaurant used to belong to your parents and you're upset to sell it. You… don't want it to change too much," Emma suggested.

"Brilliant," Mickey replied, smiling at her.

Emma felt herself blush.

"I have to sell it because I'm in debt. Stacie and I just got engaged and I've given up on trying to pay for the restaurants upkeep, we need money for our wedding in March."

Ash re-entered the room, clicking his phone shut.

"Ok, so I've found us a restaurant."

"You've found someone who'll let us use it?" Mickey asked.

"Not exactly."

Mickey gazed at Ash, his eyes questioning.

"Yeah, I've got a mate who's a head chef, nice Italian place in West London. His boss is on holiday and he's in charge for two weeks."

"Sounds fun," Danny said, grinning.

"I'll call Richard." Albert rose from his seat.

The group split from the shape they'd been arranged in, in the centre of the apartment, drifting away to various corners. Emma stayed sat, feeling a little disappointed to have been given a smaller part in the con. She probably should have realised this would happen, after all, there were seven of them now. And the others were all better grifters than her and Sean. The problem was that she hadn't thought about what would happen, for weeks her thoughts hadn't gone to a time past meeting Danny and Stacie. But now everything else had, and it was scary.

Emma sighed and distracted herself, flicking open the phone book for the number of Jonathan Mayfair's restaurants. Everyone else moved around her. Albert was talking quietly on the phone. Emma looked around her for the others. Sean was in the kitchen with Danny. They were talking, Sean laughed at something Danny said. Emma watched them and felt slightly jealous of her brother's confidence. Mickey appeared behind her.

"Well done before, by the way." Emma glanced at him. "With the plan," he added.

"Thanks," she almost whispered, trying to tone down the wideness of her smile.

Mickey smiled back, and then disappeared round a corner of the wall as Ash called him.

Emma felt straight away that she was being watched.

No, not specifically that she was being watched. But her senses told her someone was behind her, close to her or looking at her or near.

She turned around. Stacie was seated by the window, facing her, but seconds after Emma turned around, curious, her dark eyes flicked downwards. The moment stayed still like that for a while, the two women alternatively changing the direction of their eyes so they could pretend that they weren't watching the other, or that they didn't know the other was watching them.

After what seemed like longer than it was, Stacie unfolded herself from her chair, wandering over to where Mickey and Ash were and casually joining in with their conversation. Emma's eyes followed her, wondering what she thought of her.

Then Emma noticed something. She saw the way Stacie was looking at Mickey, took in the way her voice became a little louder and animated when she spoke to him, the way she smiled and laughed and the look on her face as she watched him walk away.

It was a look that Emma imagined had been on her own face before.

* * *

**Thank you for reading this anyone that did, and thank you You'veMadeYourBed for reviewing. I have stuff to do but I'll try and update this again soon. Please review. =)**

**Miss Muffin x**


	3. Chapter 3

Waitressing in Richard Mayfair's restaurant, Emma decided was like holding your hands in boiling water. Water so hot that it started to feel like it wasn't just heat biting at your skin, but an actual pain, a burning sensation rushing through your skin, which was quickly turning scarlet. Then you pulled out your hands and plunged them into blissfully cold water, still almost too painful and probably feeling a lot colder than it was because of the heat. It almost let your hands relax as soft needles injected a layer of numbness across your skin.

And then throwing them back into the hot water again.

The pace of the kitchen was so fast, so full of rushing bodies and muffled shouts that each time she hurried out, brandishing other people's dinners; she could never quite remember what had just happened. Then she left the warmth and the cooking and the madness and managed a graceful walk across the eating area, where the calmness, light voices and gentle piano music was almost too much to tolerate. She only just managed a smile and calm, cheerful voice as she went round to each table.

Emma was never quite sure if she could manage the next bit, if she could write everything down in time so that the customer wouldn't have to say it again, if she'd get this next tray of drinks to its table without dropping or spilling anything.

But she didn't, and she managed to muddle through it all, every so often sharing an understanding look with Sean across the restaurant, and trying to make herself look forward to the squashed chicken sandwich that was waiting for her when she finished.

Whilst both doing her job and mentally complaining to herself, Emma tried to follow Mickey's two instructions; to take in as much about Richard Mayfair's restaurant as she could and to not let Richard Mayfair see her enough to remember her face (her and Sean would be needed later in the con).

And as she progressed through the evening, and the main courses on the trays she carried became deserts and coffees, Emma realised what had kept her going through the evening. It was the need inside her that yearned to please and impress, something she hadn't experienced this full on since she'd first joined Mickey's crew. But here it was again, the desperation to prove to the others that whatever they wanted she could do it, and she could do it well.

Maybe the feeling's return was because there were seven of them now, and the little part of her that still needed to impress Mickey had more competition now. It was being drowned out. Or maybe she wanted to prove herself to Danny and Stacie, who she'd just met.

But by nine o clock, an hour and a half before Emma was due to finish work, she knew she definitely wasn't doing it for herself. And with every table she served, the reality of the chicken sandwich started to seem less and less appealing.

* * *

_Hey everyone. =)_

_So I haven't updated this for a while because my laptop's broken and gone to the repair shop. :( This is only a short one because the half written chapter I was going to use for chapter 3 is on my laptop. So I'll update in a little while with something longer, but this was all I could come up with without using bits that are explained in the other chapter too early. Thanks for reading 3_

_Shoutouts to Emily Rhodes and Lola.=D And happy birthday, Rosie . 3 _

_Leave a review please and I'll send you an imaginary cookie . xD_

_Miss Muffin x_


	4. Chapter 4

Richard Mayfair was not having a good day.

After a series of incidents involving a clumsy waitress at one of his restaurants in the West End, the hassle of sacking her, followed by the second call from his wife's lawyer this week demanding money, by the time he returned home he was just about ready to sleep for at least a few days. When it was happening, every tiny problem instantly became a huge issue to him; the fast movement and detail needed in running the restaurants occupied most of his mind, leaving little room for anything else. They seemed deadly at the time, but by next week they were forgotten, replaced with other, similar problems and needs. That had become his life. Richard had lost everything else.

When he returned to his house, found he'd received a voicemail from the American man he'd met a few days ago, a little hope returned to his mind when he rhetorically asked if he wanted to meet the owner of the restaurant he'd mentioned some time next week.

He remembered their meeting mostly because of how unusual it was for him to talk to someone long enough to find he had as much in common with them as he did with this man. Andrew, his name was. Andrew Drake.

Richard took the business card from the end table next to the leather armchair in his almost empty living room. Apart from a perfectly placed lamp it was the only object on there.

The other side of London, a phone started to ring.

Albert swiftly picked it up, quickly shushing the others before he spoke.

The others stared at the phone as Albert spoke into it, as if it would help them hear the voice on the other end.

"Ah, Richard…"

Mickey smiled to himself. Albert was off, the perfect tone of voice and words that he knew the mark wanted to hear sailing into the phone, the voice of an old friend brandishing promises. He exchanged smiles with the others, admiring Albert's cheery laughter as it faded to a more serious tone, and the idea of tomorrow's meeting with the restaurant's owner was brought into the conversation, presumably Richard, Mickey thought. It reassured him – for a minute he'd been getting a feeling that came up occasionally with marks. Maybe this is wrong. Maybe he's a good person. Maybe we're not doing the right thing. He'd only had the long term version of the feeling twice – with Corridor Samar and Katherine Winterbourne, who was a mistake he related back to in his mind often.

But the minute the mark brought up what he wanted, Mickey felt better. It was as if laughing along with Albert had been an act also on his behalf. He was using him as a friend solely because he wanted to buy a restaurant. Now Mickey could relax.

He'd lost track of what was going on by now. Albert was deep into the conversation with Richard Mayfair, jotting down details for their meeting on the back of his hand. Emma and Sean were talking in low voices the other side of the room; Stacie, Ash and Danny watched Albert from the sofa, uttering the occasional sentence.

He finally hung up, after what seemed like too much time filled with finger tapping and silence. Albert placed the phone back in its stand, smiling slightly.

"Are we on?" Mickey demanded, though to be honest he didn't doubt Albert.

"We're on," Albert replied. "But there could be a problem. I'm taking Richard to our restaurant tomorrow night, now. Tomorrow afternoon he's going to see another restaurant that's been offered to him by somebody he met last week."

The moment paused for a while, nobody speaking.

"Will we need to do anything?" Ash asked.

"Probably not, but it'd be good to be sure Richard Mayfair's going to make an offer for _Mickey's _restaurant."

Mickey nodded slowly.

"Okay, so Ash, do you think you could follow him tomorrow?" he suggested.

"Of course," Ash smiled, which Mickey returned.

"And Sean and Emma started at his restaurant last night, and Richard's coming tomorrow instead. Danny, are you all ready for your part on Thursday?"

"Couldn't be more," Danny said, grinning.

"Ok," Mickey nodded, slowly studying each of the six faces around him. "So there are no holes?"

"Well, except this other restaurant…" Ash mentioned.

"But I have faith in you Ash," Mickey replied.

Ash gave a staged sigh, but Mickey noted the tiny proud smile flicker across his lips, something he always saw in Ash when he was given a large responsibility.

"Ok, then. We're on."

The group divided across the room and Mickey blinked, for a second seeing only darkness and almost forgetting to open his eyes. He heard several doors creak, the click of keys on Ash's laptop and a few quiet conversations. Mickey smiled to himself.

His team were at work.

And everything seemed to be running smoothly.

* * *

_Thankyou to all those who reviewed. =)_

_I've been through Chapter 1 and corrected the POV kerfuffle - sorry about that. I think most of it's gone. xD Also I have my laptop back now so updates should be coming more regularly. Look out , =D_

_Miss Muffin x_


	5. Chapter 5

Richard Mayfair lit a cigarette as he left his car, and they watched.

They watched as he walked down the busy road, and consulting his phone. They watched as he noticed a pound coin on the pavement and quietly bent to pick it up. They watched as he checked his watch, then seemed to realise he was early and stopped in a near by café. They watched him drink his coffee, and watched him glare at a group of chattery women and they watched scowl and frown as the world went by.

"What's he doing?"  
Stacie's question was more of a rhetorical one than expecting an answer. Ash scanned his eyes through the window, and then looked at Stacie as he thought.

"I'll be two minutes. Don't let him see you."

He swung the car door open as he crossed the bustling street, an annoyed driver beeping as he passed, hurrying through traffic. Reaching the other side of the road, he took the last remaining table in the outside area of Richard Mayfair's café.

Turning around, he shared a quick look with Stacie, who was sat in their car, Eddie's car. She was watching too.

Richard was being watched from both directions.

A waitress arrived and Ash talked to her and ordered a drink without thinking, concentrating on Richard.

Minutes passed by. Ten to two became five to two, which became five past two. Richard seemed to be getting bored, impatient. He picked up his phone and dialled a number, starting to speak straight away.

Ash heard snippets of Richard's end of the conversation. A forced polite tone. A depressingly faked laugh.

"Waiting…"

"Right place?"

"Oh, thanks..."

And there it was again. That laugh, no, that _gasping_ that could almost be mistaked for coughing or _choking._

The conversation ended, and as Richard hung up, a young-ish man who Ash would've said was about twenty eight, appeared round the corner, hurriedly approaching Richard's table.

"Mr Mayfair? I'm _so _sorry I was late I…" the man's voice grew quieter as his words grew quicker.

His hair was light brown and he spoke with an accent that immediately made Ash think of Danny.

"It's fine, really," Richard interrupted, his annoyance seeping through the cracks in his cheerful mask.

As they talked, Ash listened. He took down details in his mind of why they were there, though they already knew.

This man wanted to sell him a restaurant.  
This man was the competition.

He was going to show it to him on Friday. That's when they were going to decide on a price. And however sure Mickey and the others seemed about the fact that it would be them Richard would fall for; this was starting to seem like a certainty.

As the waitress took their empty glasses, Ash headed back to Stacie in the car, feeling a trifle less cheerful.

Stacie looked at him and away from the window as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Any luck?"

"Meh… it's what Albert thought."

"He's selling him a restaurant?"

Ash nodded solemnly. "We need an edge."

They sat in silence for long seconds. Ash didn't need to speak for Stacie to see that no, things weren't looking good.

"Wait. We should follow him," Stacie suggested, nodding in the direction of the man that was now walking away from the café.

"Yeah, ok."

They slid out of the car, crossing the road and catching up with Richard's companion and slowing to a walk a few metres behind them. They didn't need to keep quiet or risk looking suspicious, seeing as they were invisible among the masses of lunch-breaking workers and afternoon shoppers. The streets they passed through became smaller and narrower, bearing blocks of flats instead of shops and they had to keep their distance now. Neither Ash nor Stacie spoke.

A distant phone chimed, the first noise in the last ten minutes, and two pairs of eyes watched as the stranger picked up his phone, talking quietly yet within earshot.

"I'm coming… I'll be five minutes."

Immediately Ash noticed his voice had completely changed, the heavy Cockney accent from before had been replaced with a calmer, accent-less tone. He wondered if he was imagining it.

"Yes, I said. The mark's going to meet you in three days."

Ash and Stacie met each other's eyes, a sudden wave of shock flashing between them.

They didn't need to speak to share the realisation that, yes. They were other conmen.

_Hi. =) I'm going away for the next two weeks so I won't be updating, but I will as soon as I get back. Hope you enjoyed that. ^ xD_

_l_

_And enjoy the summer and stuffs. Please leave a review =)_

_Miss Muffin x_


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Mickey, Emma and Danny arrived at The Vesuvius, Ash and Stacie were already there.

Emma at first thought they'd maybe walked into the wrong restaurant, an actual restaurant, by mistake. After 45 minutes spent stuck in a car, quietly attempted to navigate whilst Mickey and Danny argued about nothing in particular, it definitely wouldn't be the first time she'd made mistakes in finding the restaurant. But after looking closely at the various people seated around the restaurant, she noticed that although menus were neatly folded across each table, nobody was reading them or eating anything. The extras were ready in position, talking amongst them.

Ash appeared through a side door of the main eating area, arms full with carried bags and looking odd in a t-shirt and jeans amongst the smartly dressed strangers.

"You're late – he's coming in ten minutes," Ash protested. He threw a plastic bag in Emma's direction, which she caught awkwardly. "Costume," he explained, smiling wryly. "We need you in the kitchen and out of sight before the mark gets here."

"Okay, I'll be two minutes," Emma replied, heading in the direction of the bathrooms. Behind her, she heard Ash address Mickey. "Look, we've got a problem…"

Once in the bathroom, Emma glanced herself in the mirror whilst she pulled back her hair. Very reluctantly, she opened the bag and took out the chefs hat and white jacked inside it, imagining Ash had had a little bit too much fun picking them out.

Her embarrassment was maybe benefiting someone, at least.

* * *

Richard Mayfair did not like being late, especially not for meetings, or when he was anywhere on business, which was often. Being late made him feel straight away at a disadvantage, ashamed because already he'd shown that as a person he could have faults.

Nobody could think of him as someone that made mistakes. Ever.

So by the time he got to The Vesuvius, 15 minutes later than he was expected, Richard was slightly red-faced and muttering angrily at the taxi driver, he definitely wasn't in the mood to paint on a polite and friendly smile and socialise.

But he managed to calm down and mask his annoyance, taking three deep breaths and counting slowly down from five.

_Four, three, two…_

Once he allowed himself to take notice of what was in front of him, he was already changing the restaurant's front in his mind, painting over its brick outside wall that matched the rest of the street, in a tasteful shade of off-white, taking down the metal sign that looked like it was once a more silvery colour than the dark grey it was now. It could be gold, arching over the doorway in a curved rectangle instead of shyly hanging from the side of the building. Of course, the script would swirl _Mayfair's_, like it did in all the others, the signature oak leaf logo almost visibly fluttering underneath the letter 'y'.

Richard walked through the doors, taking in everything around him and it instantly reminded him of the very first restaurant he'd owned.

He was back there now, back in the quiet building near a park in Camden. It was something he'd planned since leaving school, starting college straight afterwards. He took a course in Business Studies, and when he told a friend what he hoped to do he introduced him to Matthew, a student at the same college who was studying Catering. Throughout the three years, the two students became friends. They collected their degrees at the same time and six months later, opened their restaurant.

At first it was a game, really, children's attempt at running a business. There wasn't really that much money involved, though just enough, and it was the same with the customers. _The Apple Tree_'s staff consisted of Richard as a general manager and accountant, Matthew as head chef, plus a friend of Matthew's who'd done the same Culinary course and also cooked, his younger sister, Megan, a pretty blonde who was just waitressing so she could save up for art school, and a host they'd found through a job agency who claimed to have good charismatic skills.

They drifted through the days and muddled through it all, though it definitely wasn't enough for Richard. He told Matthew about how big they were going to be, about all the money they'd make and how customers would make reservations months in advance in order to ensure a table, and his friend listened, though believing it a lot less. A year and a half later, a second branch opened and Richard's life began to change for his restaurants. More employees were hired, though unlike Matthew, Richard didn't fit in as much with the staff. He wasn't their friend, he was their employer. He was serious. He was strict. He was the boss.

By the third year, all of the original staff was gone and Matthew told Richard he was leaving, going with the promise to keep in touch, though it was broken. The last Richard heard of Matthew was that he'd married Megan.

After that, it changed. _The Apple Tree _became _Mayfair's_, more staff changes brought. Richard only took the best.

He knew there was something wrong with him, that he was unusually centred on his work and to be honest, that was why he'd married Angela. Out of curiosity, to see if as soon as he married and had children it would all be different. But it wasn't, and divorce came as a relief from the huge chore that was having a family.

So he carried on as he had, and the restaurants were everything. He'd convinced himself that was all he needed, now.

* * *

"Mr Mayfair? I'm Alan Thornton."

The tall, friendly-looking black man extended his hand and Richard shook it, returning his smile.

"Pleased to meet you," Alan smiled again, and Richard wondered if his welcoming warmth was genuine. As a general disliker of _people_, he found himself thinking that a lot.

"This is my fiancé, Vanessa Jordan."

A pretty, dark-haired woman appeared at Alan's side, and Richard shook her hand.

"And you know Paul Greenman."

Richard sent a friendly nod in his direction, though he felt slightly disappointed that he was here as well. After all, how was it his business after the introduction? He wasn't going to try and buy the restaurant, as well, was he?

"Let's sit down."


	7. Chapter 7

Emma arrived back at the penthouse alone, after Mickey, Stacie and Albert had, as intended, been invited back to Richard Mayfair's flat for drinks. Ash had stayed behind at the restaurant to pay the extras and clean up, though politely declined Emma's offer to help, and Danny, after playing another interest in the restaurant had left earlier as part of the plan.

When Emma got to the penthouse, it was empty. She immediately went to the next most obvious place: Eddie's Bar. She walked there in ten minutes. Eddie's Bar was alive with scents and smells and colours – a relief from the bland emptiness of London's narrower streets. At ten pm, it was at it's busiest with around ten customers in total. Eddie nodded in Emma's direction as she entered.

"They're over there."

Emma followed his eye line to a table in the far corner, where Danny and Sean were sat, laughing over two drinks and a confused layout of cards. They didn't seem to notice her and continued their game of cards. Emma let out a tiny cough. They glanced upwards, slightly.

"Oh, hi," Sean said, face still flustered from laughter and drink. "How did it go?" he asked, perhaps in an attempt to sound more serious.

Emma nodded slowly. "Good, I think."

"Want to join us?" Danny asked, smiling widely and gesturing towards the cards on the table.

"No, thanks," Emma replied, gingerly. "I'll be over there."

She gestured towards the bar and went over there to join Eddie, ordering a drink without much thought. She looked warily over at Danny and Sean, who'd gone back to their cards and drinking. Emma looked suspiciously at the empty shot glasses spread across the table, wandering if Danny could for any reason taking advantage of her brother's drunkenness, he was, after all, a con artist, but he didn't seem particularly sober himself.

Emma took a sip of her drink, feeling slightly tempted to join them, mainly just to show off to Danny her alcohol tolerance.

But in a way, she felt slightly betrayed by Sean and Danny's sudden friendship.

How could Sean so easily get along with Danny if she and Stacie couldn't Danny neither, actually? Not that she'd made much effort.

It had always been her that was the more confident. When they were younger, Sean was there because she Emma was and he followed her, not necessarily because he always wanted what she did. He always had the choice to leave but never did, and Emma knew he wouldn't. It was selfish, she knew, but she also knew that Sean wouldn't know what do if he was without her. She could never tell him that she wouldn't, either. He believed in her too much.

But after joining Mickey's crew, her brother had grown up in a way. And it was scary.

The doors swung open and Mickey, Stacie, Ash and Albert entered Eddie's Bar. Emma was expecting them to be laughing, talking about how successful the night had been, asking Eddie to open the champagne but they weren't. She immediately noticed their stony faces, their silence.

Something was wrong.

"What's happened?" Emma inquired, sitting up in her seat slightly.

Mickey sighed. "Ash?"

Ash bit his lip, attempting to bring up an explanation. "There's another team of grifters with our mark."

Emma took in the news, staying calm and searching the others' faces for anything else. Other con artists wasn't something they had come across much before, especially not ones that it seemed they would be competing for their mark, at least, not since Mickey and Ash had crossed paths with her and Sean.

"Look, it's not a big thing…" Ash started to say.

"No, it isn't. We just have to do what we always do – we have to stay one step ahead of them." Mickey seemed to be speaking more to himself than to anyone else.

He was pacing.

"So we keep going?" Stacie asked, seeming to have Mickey's pacing, which was sort of as close as he came to panicking.

Picking up on the atmosphere, Eddie loyally hurried to pour four drinks.

"I don't know," Mickey said, seeming in doubt. "What are they like?"

"Like us," Stacie explained. "They're selling him a restaurant, we think; we're assuming they're the competition he told Albert about."

"Are they… good?" Mickey asked worriedly, eyes flicking between Ash and Stacie's faces.

Ash shrugged carefully. "We don't know. We'll have to stay three steps ahead."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Mickey thought out loud, slowing his pacing and sitting down between Ash and Stacie. "What do we do, Albert?" he asked quietly.

Albert looked at Mickey, questioningly. "You should know by now to go by your experience, Michael. Do you trust you're instinct or take the risk?"

Mickey considered it. "We keep going, I think," he said. "But we're going to need to improve our plan. Where are Danny and Sean?" he asked Emma.

She gestured to the corner of the bar where they were still sat, slightly embarrassed.

Mickey raised an eyebrow. He glanced around his crew, at Danny and Sean's drunkenness, Emma's confusion and Ash and Stacie's stifled yawns.

"Okay, we'll work on what we're going to do later," he said. "We all need some rest."

­

* * *

_Thanks for reading, I'll try to update soon. Please leave a review =)_

_MM_


End file.
